


The Road To Heaven Is Paved With Souls

by curseofmorgana



Category: Boondock Saints (Movies)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Sibling Incest, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-28
Updated: 2014-08-28
Packaged: 2018-02-15 04:41:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2216202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curseofmorgana/pseuds/curseofmorgana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It only takes seconds for Connor to identify the meaning of his look, and a few seconds more for him to give in to his brother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Road To Heaven Is Paved With Souls

**Author's Note:**

> This work is un-beta'd so all mistakes are mine

Connor seems to be so distracted anymore. He sits bare chested and idle on the couch, a lit cigarette dangles from his lips and smoke curls into a smog that reaches for the ceiling. The cogs in his head were visibly turning, probably imagining another job or maybe thinking of their previous kills. So much bloodshed, but somehow not enough, not near enough. Evil man, dead man. He stabs out his cigarette, the last of the smoke filters through his mouth in a deep sigh. 

Shuffling from the far side of the room catches Connor’s attention, he’d managed to forget he wasn’t alone. Murphy, in a state of undress, perched himself on the edge of the nearest bed. Murphy was stunning with his stark hair, angled face, and toned physique. The half-hearted light of the early evening dusts the room and covers everything in lucid shadows.

Their eyes catch and the atmosphere shifts. Cool turns stiflingly warm, nearly suffocating. Their expressions are identical until the corners of Murphy’s mouth turn up, his demeanor changes just enough. Maybe it was a trick of the light but his eyes seemed to shine. Murphy raises his eyebrows in proposition and all other distractions melt into the surrounding darkness.

It only takes seconds for Connor to identify the meaning of his look, and a few seconds more for him to give in to his brother. 

Heat knots in the pit of Connor’s stomach when he drops to his knees in front of Murphy. His calloused hands grip on both his brother’s knees and he spreads his legs apart. Murphy’s dick arcs upward flushed a vivid pink. Connor can feel Murphy’s gaze as he takes him into his mouth. 

It doesn’t take long before Murphy’s head tilts back and Connor’s drawing little noises from him. Connor takes his whole length, bobbing in a steady rhythm, he pulls back swirling his tongue around the head. Murphy grabs at Connor’s hair tousling it into further disarray, a whine low in his throat drowns out the crude sucking noises and the low hum hanging in the air. “Brother.. please.” The first words spoken during this encounter begins with Murphy begging, Connor smiles in amusement. 

“Is it that you want me, brother? Want me to fuck you?” Connor’s accent grew thicker with lust, all rough syllables and smooth tones. Murphy only nodded. “Then be a good boy and lie down.”

Murphy did as he was told, moving further up the bed, laying with his back molded into the pale sheets. His legs were bent upward and spread provocatively, both arms behind his head, and that same dangerous smile gracing his lips as it had earlier. The darkness advanced as the sun set, casting deeper shadows. Connor was appreciative of the view. He, as well, made his way atop the bed. He stuck his own fingers in his mouth, lubing them up. He brought his fingers in between Murphy’s ass and circled around his hole. Murphy took a sharp intake of breath in anticipation. A single finger prodded it’s way inside, massaging at the tight muscle, a second finger was added quickly enough. Murphy gave a content sigh and relaxed against the mattress. Connor’s fingers glided in and out of his brother, scissoring and loosening him up. Murphy had lost himself and was pushing into his brother’s fingers in impatience. “Fuck me, Connor. Now.” His tone, even if he was foregone in pleasure, was harsh. It reminded Connor who was really in charge, regardless of who was on top. He could only comply.

The warmth in Connor’s gut was ever persistent as his own length strained against denim. He unzipped his pants and they slipped to the floor, freeing his own length in the process. He reached for Murphy’s thighs, running his blunt nails down the meaty flesh, stopping to lift each leg over his shoulders and position himself. 

Murphy moaned when Connor buried himself to the hilt. He needed no further urging as he built a slow pace. His brother liked it that way, an agonizing build up before a body jarring finish. A blush made it’s way from Murphy’s face down to his chest. The sharp burn and drag of Connor’s dick made him wriggle his hips. With each thrust, Connor willed himself to slip away. He grunts low in throat and speeds up. Murphy’s legs fall and slip around his brother’s waist, they’re pressed chest to chest now. 

“Murph. Oh God, Murph.” Connor nuzzles his brother’s neck murmuring his affections into his skin, everything he’s afraid to say in the daylight. He tries to keep his voice down but Murphy hears every word. And when the moment get’s heated and Connor whispers, “I love you.” Over and over again, Murphy repeats it back to him.

Connor lifts his head and looks his brother in the eye and all he can see is complete adoration. He presses his lips against Murphy’s, all hot and full of passion. It reminds them both of the first time they’d shared a kiss on that one chilly September day. It’d been over a decade ago but memorable none the less.

Hot skin slick with sweat and the simultaneous beating of their hearts had brought their minds back to the here and now. Connor, slightly off balance and with little control, pounded into Murphy. Their hands clasped with fingers interlocked just above Murphy’s head. Their ragged breathing and near primal movements meant they were both close. Murphy came with a strangled gasp, waves of his orgasm causing him to shake. He clenched around Connor. With a few more thrusts, Connor hit his release. He stilled and waited for his own orgasm to pass. 

Heavy panting filled the empty spaces in the air and the darkness encased them in this fleeting moment of bliss. Connor managed to roll to the side, giving Murphy enough room to stretch out. Somehow the silence was lively and boisterous, and any doubts that clouded their passion dissipated quicker than they’d ever arrived. 

When the brothers are falling into sleep and the sun gives away to the moon, there they are, Murphy plastered to Connor’s side, their hands still laced together, symbolizing their connection with each other. Their unbreakable bond even when crashing through Hell guns blazing, to their journey from lying side by side in a pool of crimson on their way to peace, to their own slice of Heaven.


End file.
